


From Azaleas to Zinnias

by wordslinger



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, jerza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 10,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various interpretations of a flower/meaning prompt list on tumblr. Basically fulfilling my own whimsical wish of pages and pages of Jellal playing with Erza's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Azalea- fragile and ephemeral passion** _

* * *

 

****

She'd been crying. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and ruddy with embarrassment. He sat beside her on the soft blanket of wood chips that surrounded the bushes and drew his knees against his chest. Her sobbing didn't lessen and Jellal picked at a scab on his arm awkwardly. He huffed in frustration and the fine hairs on his arm stirred. Sadness wasn't something he was good at. Erza's despair poked him in places that made him want to cry too.

Her shoulders stopped shaking finally and she stretched her legs out in front of her dislodging the chips and creating a small valley. Her already snagged leggings would have bits of wood in them for sure.

“You'll get in trouble for following me,” Erza whispered. She wouldn't look at him. The remaining hanks of her beautiful scarlet hair hung unevenly about her shoulders.

“I don't care,” Jellal offered bravely.

“My mom will be angry with me. She... she says I should stand up to them but I –” Erza sniffled and began to cry again. “I just can't. I'd rather be completely bald than listen to any of it.”

“They're just jealous,” he muttered petulantly. “They're jealous that you have something special and they don't.”

“I don't want to be special.”

“Why?”

“Because it hurts. I just want to be like everyone else.”

Jellal stared at her agape. Erza tugged nervously on the longest piece of hair left. Why couldn't she see it wasn't her hair that made her special? Even if he did very much like the hair. She could hack it all off and still exude the magic that drew him to her.

Of course telling her any of that wouldn't do. She didn't want to hear those things right now. Jellal sighed and pulled something from his pocket. He scooted closer to her and held out a pair of scissors. Erza stared at them in confused silence.

“Let me help you fix it.”

“But –”

“Maybe your mom won't be so mad if we even it out a little?” Jellal cautiously touched the ragged edges of her hair that had cruelly shorn off in class. If he couldn't make the bullies pay, he could at least try and nullify their efforts. “I promise I'll be careful.”

Erza blinked her wide brown eyes and chewed on her lip.

“Okay,” she said softly.

Jellal moved behind her and ran his hands through her hair reverently. He'd wanted to touch it since the first time he'd seen her. Hair cutting wasn't exactly something he had experience in but he'd helped his dad sheer the sheep more than once and how different could this be?

Erza's hair was fine and slid over his fingers like spun silk. She sat straight and still as he snipped off the uneven edges. Her breaths on his neck as he moved to the front were distracting but the end product made him smile.

“How does it look?” she asked when he sat back on his heels.

“It's short,” he said plainly. “But it's not forever.”

Erza stood, brushed the chips from her skirt, and peeked into the darkened window at the edge of the flowerbeds. She fingered a strand that slipped from behind her ear. Jellal fidgeted with the scissors nervously. When Erza finally turned back to him she smiled.

“Thank you, Jellal.” Her face was still red and cheeks still glistening with earlier shed tears but he thought her beautiful all the same. Perhaps it was indulgent, but he snapped an azalea bloom from the bushes and stepped closer to her. Erza's eyes didn't stray from his as he brushed the newly-shortened strands from her face and tucked the flower behind her ear.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he whispered.

“It's not forever,” she replied. Erza took his hand and smiled again.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Buttercup- ingratitude** _

* * *

 

His mother called them weeds but his dad called them buttercups. The yellow blossoms filled the pasture behind their house and she often complained that not even the sheep would eat them. Jellal hated the color of the petals and wished they were red instead.

* * *

 

The sweater was hideous. Erza tried her best to pull the cuffs of her rain coat over the too-long sleeves of it, but failed miserably. Jellal tried to imagine why her aunt had chosen such a color. Surplus yarn? Colorblindness? A complete disregard for complimentary shades? Surely the older woman hadn't thought yellow would be a pleasing backdrop for scarlet. He didn't hate it as much as he thought he should've, though. It was impossible for Erza to ever appear less than perfect to him. Even a flour sack would've been flattering in his eyes.

She tugged on the jacket cuffs again and sighed.

“Maybe if I let the rain soak it, I could get away without a sweater,” she mumbled.

“I doubt that. It's pretty cold today.” Jellal held onto her lunch box as she tried to fold the yellow sleeves out of view. “And if you get your hair wet, you'll get sick.”

Erza sighed and struggled with the hood of her rain coat. The sleeves of the sweater popped back into view and she groaned. Jellal stopped walking and pulled her under a low hanging tree. The leaves sheltered them from the frigid drops of rain, and he smoothed her hair before tucking it behind her ears. Her expression was so adorably forlorn he couldn't help his chuckle as he pulled the hood over her head.

“Of all the horrible colors she could've chosen,” Erza muttered.

“It's not that bad,” he offered with a smile.

“It is,” she countered. “You're biased anyway.”

“I am not. You'd look just fine in anything, Erza.”

“That's exactly what I mean.” She took her lunch box back back and giggled as they began walking again. _“Biased.”_

Jellal shrugged, still grinning. “Could be worse.” He bound up the stairs of the school house and held the door open for her.

“How?”

“She could've knit a design into it. Plain buttercup yellow is better than a yellow sweater with a zigzag pattern.”

Erza hesitated before removing her rain coat and hanging it on the hook next to Jellal's.

“Do you really think it's buttercup yellow?” she asked with a quiver of hope.

“Of course. We've got a whole field of them behind the house because of all the rain. I'd say I'm an expert on buttercup yellow.”

She smiled and smoothed the front of the sweater. Erza entered the classroom feeling a little less ungrateful and Jellal stopped wishing for red buttercups instead of yellow. It wasn't such a bad color anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Camellia- my destiny is in your hands** _

* * *

 

Erza sighed and leaned back against Jellal's legs. She closed her eyes and brushed the unblemished petals of the camellia blossom he'd given her against the spot on her cheek that still tingled with his kiss. The wind sent wisps of red flying back into his waiting fingers.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked combing through the long scarlet strands that never failed to mesmerize him.

“No,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Surprise me. My destiny is in your hands.”

Jellal grinned and began to twist sections of her hair into yet another elaborate design that until this moment existed only in his imagination.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Daylily- coquetry** _

* * *

 

Through the windows he could see her fussing with the flower arrangements. The irritated dent between her eyebrows made him chuckle a little. Lillies were her least favorite. The random way blooms sprouted from the stem and flopped uncontrollably set Erza's appreciation of symmetry on edge.

Jellal watched her move from table to table, skirt swishing around her knees. He loved her knees. He especially loved when her skirt was just long enough to hang directly above them and he could see the shape of her legs. There was a spot behind her left knee that he only had to brush his lips over to make Erza's thighs quiver. Seeing that particular spot in public always tugged his mouth into a knowing smirk that left her blushing.

She was harshly eyeing an uncooperative bouquet and didn't hear him enter the tea room. Without warning Jellal swept her hair aside to expose her neck and pressed his lips to the gentle slope of it. His hand slid around her waist and held her tight against his chest.

“ _You_ aren't supposed to be here,” Erza breathed but made no move to kick him out. “This is a _ladies'_ luncheon.”

“I don't care,” he whispered and moved to kiss just under her jaw. His fingers found their way into her long strands of her hair – they always seemed to do that. _God_ , he loved her hair. Sometimes it would brush his naked chest and there was nothing more rapturous than that.

She turned in his grasp and draped her arms around his shoulders. Erza smiled and he couldn't help but kiss the corner of her mouth.

“You're incorrigible, Mister Fernandes.”

Jellal's grin widened as he shamelessly twisted a curl of scarlet around his finger. She only called him that when she wanted everyone else to think she was serious, but the way she bit her bottom lip playfully... ah, that was just for him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_**Elder- compassion** _

* * *

 

The little girl was hunched over the most bottom row of steps outside the library. She hugged her knees to her chest and scowled into her arms. There was a wagon filled with green and white boxes of cookies at her feet. Her cheeks were free of tears, this particular girl wasn't prone to crying, but her obvious frustration tugged on Jellal's heartstrings. He jogged across the street and casually stretched out beside her on the concrete steps.

“How's life treating you, Kagura?” he asked.

“Fine,” she huffed.

“Cookie sales doing alright?”

Kagura's frown deepened and she tucked further in on herself. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Simon promised to take me to the big neighborhood today but he had to work,” she mumbled. “I gotta turn in my money tomorrow and I just know Minerva's gonna beat me again, I just know it!”

“I take it you don't like Minerva?”

It had been a long time since Jellal was privy to the inner workings of little girl drama. Erza had certainly gotten into her own scuffles back in their school yard days, but she tended to burn out quickly and move on. He'd hung around Simon long enough to know his little sister was a sulker.

“I _hate_ Minerva,” she hissed.

“How many boxes do you have there?” he asked nudging the wagon wheel with his foot.

“Twelve, at least.” Kagura squashed a cluster of half-formed elderberry blooms that hung near the ground with her foot in a show of petulance. “Stupid Simon. This is all _his_ fault.”

“Twelve, huh? How much are they per box?”

“Four dollars.”

“I'll take them.”

Kagura turned toward him and shook her head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Your cookies. I want them.”

“Why do you want a bunch of dumb cookies?”

Jellal leaned forward conspiratorially. “Well, my girlfriend has a sweet tooth and I'm tired of cake. These cookies will be a nice change of pace, right? So do me a favor and sell me everything you've got in the wagon.”

“Really?” Kagura's slowly dawning smile made the purchase worth it. He'd just been paid and could afford an unplanned splurge.

“Yep. I may need to borrow your wagon, though.”

* * *

 

“Wow, Jellal,” Erza said picking through the stacks of boxes on table. “I always knew you were a sucker but this really takes the cake.”

She may have been teasing him but her eyes twinkled with amusement. Jellal grinned as she selected a box of mint chocolate cookies.

“Actually, I was hoping for a break from cake.”

Erza laughed and leaned over his shoulder.

“Sixty dollars poorer and fifteen boxes of cookies richer will certainly buy you a break from cake,” she said softly in his ear. Jellal tugged playfully on the strands of hair that brushed his cheek.

“What else will it buy me?” he asked salaciously.

“Crumbs in the bed.”


	6. Chapter 6

_**Forsythia- anticipation** _

* * *

 

Jellal often wondered whether or not Forsythia Lane was named for the bushes that lined the stone walls along the street or the other way around. The spiny branches had burst into bloom only three days before and he took it as a sign that Erza would return soon. Her family had traveled to the south for winter and Erza's studies had gone with her in trunks and boxes. Four months had never seemed so long or bleak.

He'd have missed her either way but before she'd left Erza grabbed his hand and planted an unexpected kiss on his cheek. Jellal was left on the train platform touching his face with wide eyes and feeling much too warm for the cold weather.

Forsythia Lane wasn't the most efficient route from the farm to the post office but for the last four months he'd walked the stretch of stone walls and barren bushes nearly every day. His father couldn't be bothered with the post and Jellal didn't mind. Now the lane was bright with fingers of yellow blooms and Jellal's heart thumped in anticipation as he approached the end of the lane where the Scarlet house was situated.

Today there were two cars parked in the front and trunks were being unloaded from the rear. Cabbies still in winter coats hauled them into the house but none of that interested him. His gaze were drawn to the girl who's red hair fluttered in the chilled breeze. She clutched a book to her chest and her eyes were glued to the road expectantly.

Jellal rounded the end of the wall as casually as possible with his hands in his pockets. Erza spotted him immediately and approached with a shy smile.

“I wasn't sure you'd come.”

“Why on earth would I not?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, I thought maybe I'd upset you with... well, I hope I wasn't too forward before. I've never done anything like that and –”

“I didn't mind,” Jellal said softly with a smile. The wind picked up her hair and he caught a strand between his fingers. It seemed a visceral thing that he touch it. The citrus scent hadn't changed – not that he'd expected it to. Erza had been using the same shampoo for years. Many things had changed about her since she'd turned fifteen but he was glad that one thing hadn't.

Erza's blush did nothing for the sentimental grin he knew stretched across his face.

“Uh,” she adjusted the book she held to her chest. “I brought you a belated Christmas gift. Could we maybe walk a little ways?”

“Of course.”

He followed her down the pebbled path that led to the garden on the side of her house. She stole more than one glance at him, her face still nearly as red as her hair.

“Thank you for gifts you posted while I was away. I'd have sent you mine but mother said it was too heavy.”

“It's fine, Erza. I'd much rather have it this way.”

“Right,” she breathed.

The concrete bench was cold and he probably sat too close to her but she didn't seem to mind. Erza placed the book on her lap and ran her hands over the cover before pushing it toward him. Inside were beautiful illustrations of constellations lined with vellum. There were formations he'd never seen before from other parts of the world and detailed descriptions of origin.

“Erza,” he mumbled turning the pages with care.

“I know it's a silly gift, but I saw it and thought of you right away.” Erza trailed off and leaned forward. “Do you like it?” she asked anxiously.

Jellal finally looked up at her and his heart swelled with an emotion he was ill-equipped to name.

“Erza this is the most thoughtful and beautiful gift anyone's ever given me.” He smiled at the way her cheeks flamed again. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she said, clearly flustered. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Will you be back in school next week? Or have you surpassed us all?” he added with a wink.

“No, I'll be back. I don't like private study. It's lonely.” Erza twisted her fingers in a strand of hair and tugged nervously. “Jellal –”

“What is it?” He reached up to untangle her fingers and take her hand in his. “What's bothering you?”

“About before...”

“Before?”

“On the platform. When I...” she sighed and squeezed his hand. “When I kissed you. It wasn't a _just friends_ kiss.” Erza's face seemed to be in a permanent state of blush. “You know that right? I –”

Jellal smiled and slid across the remaining distance between them on the bush. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Yeah, I know.”


	7. Chapter 7

_**Gladiolus- you pierce my heart** _

* * *

 

In her convalescence Erza's mother preferred the gladioli. She would jokingly call them the sword lilies. Erza groaned. Jellal chuckled. The ailing woman preferred the brightest, most vibrant colors for her garden and Jellal would often fetch her the reds, yellows, and purples for the vases that littered her bedroom.

If Erza was jealous or hurt that her mother preferred Jellal's company on her bad days she didn't show it. Mother and daughter had never completely gotten along but the illness seemed to bring them to an entente, though there were still times when Erza couldn't handle both her mother's hinged jaw and the thought of losing her at once. Doctor Scarlet traveled too often to be of any comfort to his wife or daughter. Jellal suspected he, like Erza, hated to see her suffer and chose to distance himself from it.

Jellal called her Lady Scarlet and she would smile wistfully and thank him for putting up with her. It was early autumn when Simon was brought around to help with their property. Doctor Scarlet planned on being away for most of the winter and Jellal had his own family's farm to tend to. At seventeen his father expected quite a bit from him. Simon would handle things Erza couldn't manage on her own and would live in the caretaker's quarters behind the main house.

Simon was transparent. Jellal was observant.

So was her mother, apparently.

“Does it bother you?” she asked without looking up from her book.

“I haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to, Lady Scarlet,” Jellal said with a grin as he replaced the water in her vases one by one. The waning sun cast long shadows across the floor.

“You're a terrible liar, young man.” Despite the accusation her lips twitched into a smirk.

“It isn't a skill I have much use for.”

_“_ _Yet,”_ she insisted. “It's not a skill you have much use for _yet._ ” Erza's mother sighed and glanced out the windows at her daughter discussing the groundskeeping with Simon. “I've grown cynical in my old age.”

“You aren't old,” Jellal said following her gaze. Erza's hair was tightly braided in a coil but a few wisps had broken free. Her cheeks were red with chill and her mouth had an irritated twist to it.

“You flatter me because you're in love with my daughter.”

“I would never be so deceitful. Haven't you just accused me of being a bad liar?”

“I suppose I did.”

Jellal felt her eyes on her but didn't look away from the window.

“You still haven't answered my question truthfully. Does his obvious attraction to her bother you?”

“Not at all. Erza is beautiful and kind. Of course he's drawn in, though, I will say if he knew her better he'd stop insisting on whatever point he's trying to make. She's annoyed.” Jellal chuckled as he said it.

“You can read her so easily?” Lady Scarlet noisily turned a page in her book. “I've never had the knack for it.”

“Not completely, but I know enough.”

“Will you take care of her when I'm gone? My husband is lost in his studies and I fear I'll be in the ground before too long.”

Jellal sighed and turned away from the window.

“It would grieve her to hear you say that,” he said softly.

“Which is why I'm saying it to you.”

He crouched beside her chair and looked up into her eyes.

“I will always be here for Erza until she pushes me from her side. That I can promise.”

Erza's mother smiled and went back to her book.

“I'm sure your own mother is expecting you. I've had enough fawning for one day.”

“Of course, Lady Scarlet. I wouldn't want to impose.”

She huffed indignantly but continued to grin behind her book. Jellal left the sitting room and found Erza removing her coat in the front hall. Her mouth was still twisted down in irritation and after a quick glance around Jellal quickly leaned down to kiss the corner of it.

“You're shameless,” she whispered before grasping the lapels of his coat and dragging him back down to her lips.

“I can't help it.” Jellal grinned and pulled the pin from her coiled braid. The thick rope of hair fell over her shoulder.

He left her blushing in the front hall and headed home. Erza had pierced his heart and he couldn't find one shred of remorse for the wound.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Holly- foresight** _

* * *

 

The gifts lay scattered across the floor. Neither one of them had made an effort to clean the mess of paper and ribbons. In a display of independence Jellal and Erza had opted out of everything except the family dinner in favor of a quiet Christmas morning and afternoon alone. Jellal drew his fingers mindlessly through Erza's hair as he lost himself in the row of candles on the mantlepiece. They were all ringed with fresh holly and their flickering cast dim shadows on the brick.

“Do you think we could get away with this every year?” Erza asked softly twisting her body further into his side.

Jellal chuckled and pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Probably not. Christmas is the one holiday my mother absolutely adores. She thrives on anyone and everyone telling her how beautiful the main house is for a month.”

“Her gifts weren't subtle at all.” Erza mumbled.

“There's nothing subtle about my mom.” Jellal's eyes settled on the small fluffy blanket that still sat folded on the edge of a chair. The yarn was ultra-soft, and it's colors too pale to scream anything other than _grandchildren_.

“Well –” Erza fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt. “I don't think it'll sit in the closet for _too_ long. Probably only until summer.”

Jellal glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow. She smiled sheepishly before hiding her face in his chest. He kissed her hair and grinned.

“I know we've only been married for a year and your dad needs you now more than ever but... it's not so bad is it?”

“No, it's not bad at all.”

“Can we wait to tell your mom until after the new year? I don't want her thinking she had anything to do with this.”

Jellal laughed and began curling strands of red around his fingers again. He didn't know how to break it to her that his mother would draw that conclusion whether they told her today or in a month or two.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Impatiens- impatience** _

* * *

 

She had hay in her hair again. Jellal stifled a laugh and watched as she carefully stepped over the new lambs. Erza settled beside him and pulled the black one into her lap.

“The mother doesn't seem to care for this one,” she said softly.

“She will. Once we're gone she'll take him.”

“What'll happen if she doesn't?”

“Then we'll feed him ourselves. Dad won't let him die, don't worry.”

Erza smiled up at him and pressed a kiss to the soft crown of the lamb's head. Her short hair slipped from behind an ear and the stalk of hay fell into her face. She sighed in frustration. Jellal took her hand and together they climbed over the gate and left the barn.

The slope of green that led down to the river was blanketed in bright purple impatiens. The color clashed with Erza's scarlet hair but she seemed to belong amongst the flowers. He watched as she inspected a lock of it.

“I'm so sick of this short hair. Maybe I should just shave it all off.”

“You want to solve the short hair problem by cutting it shorter?”

“I guess.”

“It'll grow back, Erza.”

“Yes, but _when?_ ”

“You're too impatient.”

“You wouldn't say that if it was _your_ hair.”

Jellal laughed and nudged her shoulder. He hated to admit it but Erza was cutest at her most petulant.

“My hair is always short.” He sighed and flopped backwards into the grass. “Yours will grow and grow until it's long and beautiful and one day someone will come and take you away to the city.” He hadn't meant to say all that but it was too late to take it back.

Erza fell back beside him. Her head rested lightly on his arm and her too-short hair tickled his cheek. He brushed it away but let the strands tangle on his fingers.

“Then you'll just have to cut it again,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don't want to go anywhere with out you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**_Jonquil_ _\- desire_ **

* * *

 

Most days the ground was still wet with spring but Erza preferred the garden over any other place. Even when the clouds hovered just to the west of the sun she could be found watching the jonquils bloom. They always showed their faces first in the beds kept carefully cultivated all winter. She was supposed to be studying for end of term exams but her eyes would often stray from the pages of her books.

“Aren't you cold?” Jellal asked poking her bare knee with his finger as he joined her on the bench.

“Not at all. The sun will be out a little while longer and I want to absorb as much as possible.” Erza readjusted her skirt before quickly turning to kiss him on the cheek. “I wondered if you'd be by. Your dad keeps you busy these days.”

“He wants to retire knowing I am completely capable, I think. The new lambs will be born soon, too. You remember how that is.”

“I do. It's been a while since I've seen something like that.” She closed the book on her lap and grimaced. “I'm going to miss you this coming summer but father is insisting.”

“It's okay, Erza. I've always known you'd go to a university far away sometime. I'll always be here when you come home. And if you decide to stay –”

“Stop.” Erza set the book aside and placed a hand on his cheek to guide his eyes back to her. “I'm not like him. I don't leave what I love behind.”

“You don't think a scholar would suit you better than a sheep farmer?”

“Jellal, I swear if you don't stop taking swipes at yourself I'm going to slap you.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered.

Erza sighed and stood. She tugged Jellal to his feet and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Why is it so hard to believe it's _you_ that makes me happy? There's things I _need_ to do before I can have what I _want_.”

His fingers picked apart the braid she'd clumsily woven before settling down in the garden. The methodical way he straightened out all the tangles and fly-aways seemed to be a metaphor of everything he meant to her.

“And the same can be said for _you_ ,” she continued softly. “Despite what you say, I know you love the farm and the animals. You love the air here and the open sky. Everything that makes you happy will always be _here._ ”

“Except you this summer.”

“This coming summer and probably two years after that,” she reminded him. Erza felt his chest inflate with a reply but she cut him off before he could begin. “But it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to change how I feel about you. I'm more worried about coming home to find you've married one of the Agria sisters and started populating the countryside.”

Jellal laughed and Erza frowned up at him.

“ _What?_ Why are you laughing? Don't think I haven't noticed their mother sidling up to yours at every social function since your birthday this last year. Apparently eighteen is marrying age. By the time I finish school I'll practically be an old maid.” Erza's nose wrinkled in disgust. “I half expect one of them to sneak into your house at night clad in nothing but lily-white lace to –”

“ _Please_ stop. My mother isn't trying to marry me off, Erza. I thinks she knows better than that.” Jellal kissed her nose and grinned. “The only girl for me is _you_. I'd wait forever.”

“You know...” Erza slipped two fingers between the row of buttons on the front of his shirt. “My parents are still in the city until this evening, and Simon has gone home for the week.”

Jellal's eyebrows flew up. “Okay...”

“Why don't we take this discussion inside and upstairs before it rains.”

It took him until Erza was half way across the garden to understand that she didn't want to have a discussion at all.

Over the years Jellal had expressed his love for her in various ways. Flowers, the squeeze of a hand, a playful nudge of his shoulder, spoken words – and sometimes words left unsaid – but when he whispered it into her naked shoulder, the hair at the base of her neck, and the palms of her hands he felt like it somehow meant more.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Kingcup- youth, innocence, dawn** _

* * *

 

Her face was tiny and her mouth set in a sleep-slackened O. The blankets were pink and yellow but the fluff of hair matched his completely. Up until Jellal first laid eyes on his daughter he'd been hoping for the same scarlet as her mother's but the blue was beautiful. It was perfect.

Nothing felt real until the nurse placed her in his arms. Her arrival into the world had been harrowing. Erza's pain brought his soul to it's knees. Even now as she slept Jellal wondered if she was alright. A halo of red fanned out on her pillow and her chest moved up and down evenly.

A gasp of a yawn brought his eyes back down. But for the hair his daughter did look exactly like Erza. As he set the rocking chair into motion his free hand strayed over into the familiar red. It was still damp with sweat but alive and safe.

Jellal hadn't ever thought of life as a game but somehow, today, he felt like he won.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Lily- majesty** _

* * *

 

Jellal's hand roved over the sheets that were cold enough to prove she'd been gone for a while. He sat up in bed and glanced around the room. The fire in the stove had dimmed to coals and the only light poured in through the window. Moonlight clung to her naked skin. She appeared as etherial as the bouquet of calla lilies that still sat, abandoned, on the chest of drawers.

Stubbornly curled strands of scarlet hair spilled over her shoulders in all it's majesty and he could not stop staring. She'd married him today. The ceremony had been like a dream.

He slid from the bed and joined her at the window. She accepted his embrace and sighed.

“Do you think my mother would've approved?” Erza asked in a whisper.

“I do.”

“I've never missed her more than I did today.”

“I'm sorry,” he murmured into her neck. She suddenly turned in his arms and smiled up at him.

“I'm happy, though.” Erza's fingers twined with his and she tugged him back towards the bed. “Let's warm the air in here. It's cold.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed appropriate to write today. My family took a blow this weekend.

_**Marigold- grief** _

* * *

 

The service was awash in white and black. White lilies, chrysanthemums, and roses draped the casket while family and friends clad in all black huddled under the pavilion. Rain soaked the cemetery grounds. Erza scowled.

Jellal stayed behind once the crowd had left. She hadn't said more than mumbled words all afternoon. Her eyes stayed locked on the overspill of white blooms.

“Mother would've hated this.”

It was the first clear thing she'd said all day. He had to fix it.

* * *

 

“Jellal, you have a guest.” His father poked a head into his bedroom and smiled sadly. He nodded at the stove. “Don't let the fire go out. It's cold tonight.”

Erza stepped toward Jellal, dripping with rain, and shut the door behind her. She fidgeted before throwing herself at him. Her body vibrated with sadness.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for the marigolds.”

Jellal wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her wet hair.

* * *

 

A cluster of bright red and yellow marigolds stood out amongst all the white. Erza had been right. Lady Scarlet had always preferred the colors.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Nettle- cruelty** _

* * *

 

Jellal sighed and glared at the drying paste on his arm. The nettle plants had taken him by surprise... as had his body's reaction to the stings. Apparently he was allergic to nettle and broke out into a rash almost immediately. His mother hadn't liked the look of him and took him to see Doctor Scarlet as soon as he showed up at the back door covered in horrible, itchy, _stinging_ bumps.

And that's how Erza found him. Blotchy with baking powder paste and suppressing the urge to peel it off to get at the itching rash beneath. To deepen his embarrassment, his hands had been hidden in soft gloves because his mother didn't think his capable of resisting the itch.

“I'm sorry,” she said clutching a plate of cookies. “I brought you these but...” Erza trailed off and inspected his covered hands and expanses of paste-covered skin.

“I think the gloves were too much,” Jellal muttered petulantly. “I'm not a baby who can't control himself.”

“Here,” Erza said. She held out half a cookie with a determined expression. “I'll help you. I can't let you go home without one.”

Jellal cautiously opened his mouth and accepted the cookie half. The chocolate bits were just soft enough to coat his tongue.

“I made these myself. Are they okay?” She popped the other half into her own mouth.

“They're great, Erza.”

Erza broke a second cookie in half and fed him the bigger half. She giggled and brushed the crumbs from his chin. Jellal watched as she licked the chocolate from her fingers and push the loose strands of hair from her face. For the first time in his thirteen years he thought maybe he understood cruelty.

 


	15. Chapter 15

_**Oats- the witching soul of music** _

* * *

 

Erza watched with deep embarrassment as Sorano glided across the dance floor with Jellal. The twinkling lights and chains of late summer blooms dripped from the pavilion ceiling, and filled the air with a romance that seemed to exclude her.

It wasn't that Erza hadn't _tried_ to improve her hopeless skills in dancing. Her mother had even brought in a private tutor, but alas. She could only shuffle, trip, and flush in horror as she clomped all over the other woman's toes. Sorano had an angelic grace about her and the iridescent color of her gauzy organza dress made Erza feel as of her own dress was nothing but burlap. Never mind that _her_ dress had been made specifically for her and looked _lovely_ before leaving her house earlier that evening.

The music swelled even as Erza thought it should be winding down. How long could one piece of music possibly last? A pink blush of Sorano's cheeks as Jellal spun her around pushed Erza over the edge. She slipped from the pavilion and into the yard. Twilight had fallen and brought out the purple shade of her dress reminding her that it was not, in fact, burlap. She strayed into the garden and found a cluster of benches completely devoid of partygoers. Music still spilled out of the pavilion and poked at her. Everything felt unfair.

Erza swept past the first few benches and found a spot in the darkest corner. The edge of her skit caught on the tufts of blue oat grass and she only half heartedly tugged at the chiffon. She wanted to go home but her escort was currently twirling around effortlessly to the music.

A tear slid from her eye and Erza sniffled. Of course Jellal didn't belong to her but she'd thought maybe they'd had an understanding. It had been just over half a year since she'd admitted kissing him on the cheek wasn't a simple friendly gesture. Where to go from there wasn't clear in her mind. The thought of turning sixteen in a month and having such a weight on her heart clouded all her excitement. Maybe she should just leave and find her own way home...

“Erza?” Jellal's voice startled her and she suddenly felt incredibly self conscious. “What on earth are you doing out here in the dark?”

“I just needed a break from the crowd,” she said as lightly as she could. Her handbag was stashed in a coat closet along with her handkerchief. Fingers weren't exactly absorbent of tears.

“Your'e crying,” he noted with a frown she could see even in the deepening twilight. “What happened?”

“It's nothing. I'm fine.”

Jellal sighed and took a seat next to her on the bench. He reached over and freed the ensnared chiffon from the stalks of oat grass and took her hands.

“Are you mad because I danced with Sorano? Her mother is an incredible bully. I couldn't get out of that without being rude.”

“No...” she lied.

“Erza, please.” Jellal sighed and slid closer to her. “I thought for sure we'd cleared this up already, but I guess I have to be blunt.”

Erza looked over at him and bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. She'd never been able to hide anything from him and now that he'd come for her she thought the lie a stupid one. True to the boy she knew he touched the tendrils of hair that escaped the knot her mother had spent an hour twisting up, and grinned. His hands cupped her cheeks and wiped the remaining tears away. Erza thought maybe he'd give her a kindly worded speech but instead he surprised her and brushed his lips against the now burning apple of her cheek.

“Don't be jealous,” he whispered. Erza's eyed slid closed as his breath fanned across her face. “You're the only girl I saw tonight.”

And then he kissed her. His lips were soft but left no room for doubt or ambiguity. Erza's heart raced and her face felt hot. She hesitated for only a moment before returning his kiss perhaps a little too eagerly. When he finally pulled back his eyes looked almost as muddled as her head felt.

“Do you want me to take you home? I think I've had enough formal parties for one evening.”

“Yes,” was all she could say.

 


	16. Chapter 16

_**Phlox- bury me amid nature’s beauty** _

* * *

 

Erza's hair mingled with the blanket of phlox blooms and Jellal felt intoxicated by the sight of it. She stretched out across the ground and smiled up at him.

“This is where I want to be buried,” she said teasingly.

“I'd rather not talk about you dying,” he mumbled plucking a few purple flowers and weaving the stems into her scarlet tendrils.

“But it's so beautiful here.”

Jellal sighed loudly and Erza laughed. She reached above her head for his hand and loosely threaded their fingers. A breeze swept along the blanket of flowers and stirred the blossoms he'd left in her hair. He never wanted to think of Erza as anything but vibrant and alive.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Quince- temptation** _

* * *

 

Jellal scowled at the bowl of yellow fruit on the counter beside Erza's work station. They didn't look appealing even as she peeled them in preparation for the waiting saucepan.

“What are those again?”

“Quince fruit,” she said lightly as if he should've known.

“I've never seen them before. They look like pears.”

Erza grinned and winked at him over her shoulder. “They're from Greece. My father brought them back with him. They can't be eaten raw like pears and apples.”

She blew a strand of hair from her face and swiped at it again with her wrist in frustration. Jellal stepped behind her and did the thing he was best at – he twisted her hair into a braid that hung down her back. It was long enough to keep itself secured but the temptation to curl the end of it between his fingers anyway couldn't be resisted.

“From what I understand,” Erza began in a slow teasing tone. “This fruit is associated with fertility and is often gifted to brides on her wedding day.”

Jellal froze and the braid slipped from his fingers. He stared in horror as Erza situated the fruit halves in the sugar and cinnamon slurry for poaching.

“Should – should we be eating these then? I mean you aren't a bride and I'm...”

“I'm sure it's fine,” she said wiping her hands clean on a rag. Erza turned to kiss him on the nose before stepping out of the kitchen.

Jellal couldn't help but continue to scowl at the slowly redding fruit.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Raspberry- remorse** _

* * *

 

Erza carefully stepped around the raspberry brambles. He couldn't figure out why she was out in the patch at all as none of the blooms had turned to fruit yet. She'd been quiet most of the afternoon. Seemingly without reason or warning she knelt and fingered a cluster of white blossoms. Her hair snagged on the unkempt branches as she went down.

“I received a letter from my father today,” she said quietly as if to the flowers.

Jellal's only reply was the quirk of an eyebrow. He waited.

“He expressed remorse over how he handled mother's illness in the end. He thought perhaps he could fix it and instead averted his eyes from the cracks so long he didn't realize she was breaking apart.”

When she stood and turned back to him there were tears in her eyes.

“The thing is, I don't think mother blamed him at all. She understood his behavior and never spoke poorly of him.” Erza blinked at looked up at the slowly gathering clouds. “But I did,” she whispered. “I blamed him.”

“Erza –”

“He'll be home in time for the wedding, he says.”

Jellal pulled her against his chest and wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders. He kissed the crown of her head and picked a stray leaf from her hair.

“Why do I feel like I understand my mother only now that she's gone?” Erza's voice could barely be heard.

“I don't know.” His words felt like a failure and all he could do was soak in her tears.


	19. Chapter 19

**_Sweet pea- delicate pleasures_ **

* * *

 

The sweetpea plants that would slowly climb over and along the fence had been a transplanted gift from Doctor Scarlet. Their colorful blooms would grace the yard with beauty for years to come. For now, their contribution was small but Jellal could easily see them from the bedroom window.

The pink flowers reminded him of Erza's skin when she flushed beneath him, and the mauve petals resembled her lips after his kisses. But it was her sigh that was the most delicate pleasure of all.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Thistle- misanthropy** _

* * *

 

“Oh, good grief,” Jellal exclaimed as they rounded the top of the hill. He tightened his grip around the wadded halter and lead in frustration. Erza giggled behind him and he pursed his lips.

Daisy stood at the edge of a cluster of thistle plants and was happily munching on the bright purple flowers. Her ears twitched as they approached but showed no signs of caring one way or the other about their presence.

Jellal began the task of untangling the mess of nylon straps and hooks while Erza ran a hand over the donkey's coarse, brown coat. He tried not to be too annoyed that Daisy preferred Erza's touch to his own. Never mind that he'd cared for her since she was a runty foal. Never mind that he'd begged his dad not to sell her off. _Never mind all of that!_

Daisy found her way out of the pasture at least once a month and Jellal had to go and retrieve her. It was a thankless task because the animal had a thorough distaste for humans in general – the one exception being Erza.

She huffed when he approached her with the halter. Her tail swished back and forth and Daisy glared at him with all the cynicism of a world-weary woman.

“Come on, girl, you've had your fun. It's time to go home now.” He held the halter and lead out for her to see clearly – as if that would make a difference.

Erza stroked Daisy's neck and laughed when she poked her wet nose into the curtain of hair that fell between them. Jellal scowled.

“Why does she like you more than me?” he asked.

“Could be she likes my hair,” Erza said with a wink and a laugh. “But most likely you represent rules and regulation. You're here to drag her back to the boring old barn when all she wants to do is eat thistle flowers.” Erza smiled and reached for the halter. “How about this, pretty girl. You come back with us and I'll bring you some flowers for the road. Is that okay?”

Jellal watched with a betrayed and appalled expression when Daisy allowed the halter and lead without further insolence. He took the lead in his hand and waited for Erza to carefully gather a mound of flowers in the skirt of her sundress.

He supposed he shouldn't be jealous. Erza was _his_ favorite too, and her charms were appealing to everyone – even a misanthropic donkey like Daisy.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

_**Ulmus- royalty, strength, age** _

* * *

 

The elm tree stood in what seemed like the very center of the Fernandes property. It was possibly the oldest tree on the farm and of an enormous size. Leafy arms reached up to the sky and Erza wondered if they possibly brushed the heavens. Jellal said that notion was silly and insisted it's height wasn't nearly as impressive once perched in the branches.

Even though her reply never wavered from a firm _no_ , Jellal always asked if she wanted to climb with him. His mother's head would probably explode if she knew how often he could be found high up in the air dangling from tree branches. _'Little boys don't belong in trees!'_ she'd shouted often enough. Nevertheless, Jellal currently inched closer and closer to a bird's nest that sat too far away from the trunk for Erza's liking.

“I was just kidding, Jellal!” Erza shouted from the ground. “I don't _really_ need to know if bird's eggs are blue!”

“It's fine, Erza!” he called down. “Just a little... bit... more...” Erza watched with lungs full of anxious air. When he finally leaned over the side of the branch and grinned she exhaled. “They're blue with yellow spots.”

“Okay,” she said shakily. The wind had picked up and the elm branches swayed dangerously. “You can come down now.”

“Oh, wow!” Jellal exclaimed excitedly. “There's –” his voice cut off abruptly and Erza could only watch in horror as his body plummeted from the tree to the grass below. She stared with wide eyes and as her vision blurred with tears he finally hit the ground with a thump and a cry.

 _“Jellal!”_ she ran to his side and rolled him over to his back. “ _Are you okay?!_ Jellal!”

He groaned and curled his body around an arm that didn't look quite right. His skin was already starting to bruise. Erza had caught enough glimpses of her father's patients to know swelling would come soon after.

“Erza,” Jellal choked out. “I don't think I can walk. Everything hurts.”

“Okay.” She sniffled and wiped at her face with her sleeves. “I'm going to get your dad, okay? I'll be right back.”

Erza took off running across the pasture and with every burning exhale she muttered, _“Please don't die...”_

* * *

 

The frayed edge of her jacket sleeve was starting to unravel completely by the time Erza's father appeared in the hallway. She wiped her tears away, again, and gazed up at him from the chair. The guilt over not keeping Jellal out of the tree in the first place sat like a rock in her throat.

“Is he okay?” she whispered.

“Oh, he'll live,” Doctor Scarlet said with a small smile. “No one blames you, sweetheart. It's okay.”

“I should've –”

“Stopped him?” He removed his glasses and cleaned them on the flap of his coat. “I think we both know Jellal is a stubborn boy. If anyone could've stopped him, it might have been you.” Erza's heart sank further. “However, if he'd been alone the situation would've been much worse.”

“What's the situation?” Even at nine Erza understood complicated words. Terms like prognosis, diagnosis, and more specifically, _ulna_ weren't at all unfamiliar.

“He's got a broken arm, and a severe sprain in his ankle. I don't think he'll be walking for a while. A fall like that is jarring.”

Erza sighed in relief. Those weren't so bad, right? He'd hate the bedrest but – Erza's fists curled into knots – it served him right for scaring her so terribly.

“Can I see him?” she asked.

“Of course. He's likely to be a bit tired. I had to sedate him a little to reduce the break for casting.” Doctor Scarlet stepped aside and Erza peeked into Jellal's bedroom. His father joined the doctor in the hallway and left her alone with a half-awake Jellal. He had the _nerve_ to smile at her.

“Erza,” he said in a slightly slurred voice. “You're hair is so red.”

She frowned. “You scared me half to death today, Jellal, and all you can do is tell me something I already know?”

“It's pretty.” His eyes slid into a long blink. “My foot hurts,” he muttered.

“That's because you fell from the tree. Your mom will probably never let you out of the house again once she hears what you've done,” Erza hissed. “You're lucky she's taken the baby to see her family, and wasn't here for any of this!”

Jellal blinked again and his ridiculous grin did not go away. Erza sighed and perched on the edge of his bed.

“I was so worried,” she said, swallowing another bout of tears. “You fell like a rock.”

“I'm sorry,” Jellal said shifting on the mattress. “I promise I'll never scare you again.”

“You better not.” Erza poked at the hard cast on his arm. “You're so stupid, Jellal.” The tears leaked from her eyes without permission and she let them fall on the sheets. He didn't hear her accusation as he'd drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.

Jellal looked so small in his bed and Erza suddenly felt the weight of the day on her shoulders. She crawled over him and to the side with no casts or sprains. Sleep came easier than expected.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Verbena- pray for me** _

* * *

 

“She's your dad's sister, right?” Jellal asked only half paying attention.

“Yes. I've only met her a few times. She's very...” Erza flicked a few of the pebbles along the pond's edge into the water. Jellal glanced up from the tangle of verbena stems and blossoms in his lap.

“She's very what?”

“Proper,” she finished with a sigh. “Mother and I are rarely on the same page but when my aunt visits and comments on whatever I'm doing that pricks at her sensibilities, she'll take my side in an instant. Even if it's something she normally wouldn't like.”

“This is the same aunt who knitted you that terrible yellow sweater when we were little, right?”

Erza smirked and flicked more pebbles. “I thought you promised it looked good on me. Or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“Just because you made it appealing doesn't mean it was a pretty sweater.” Jellal held up the woven chain of flowers for his own inspection. “When will she be here?”

Erza sighed deeply. “Anytime now. Father went to collect her from the train station.” She scooted back from the edge of the pond and next to Jellal.

“I can't say I'm sorry to not have been invited to dinner,” he teased.

_“My niece,”_ Erza said in a mockingly stiff voice. “The daughter of a _respected_ medical professional, and the son of a farmer... _the scandal!_ ”

“I have nothing to say in my own defense.” He tied off the edges of the stems and twisted the chain into a crown. “I've been seduced by my betters.”

“When she hears I'll be going to college at a university instead of marrying straight away I'm sure her face will burn with a delightful shade of red.”

Jellal finally turned to her and placed the crown of flowers on her head. His fingers slid through the long curtains of scarlet and he smiled.

“Not nearly as delightful as the color of your hair.”

“I think you have a fetish,” Erza whispered. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought him nose to nose.

“Perhaps I do,” he muttered with a grin before kissing her lightly. The sound of Doctor Scarlet returning to the house disrupted their peace in the garden. “I should go.” Jellal kissed her again and helped Erza to her feet.

“Pray for me,” she said dramatically before squeezing his hand and winking salaciously.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Witch hazel- a spell** _

* * *

 

“It's probably a spell,” a voice Erza would know anywhere said from the other side of the shelving unit. She clutched her books against her chest and sucked in a breath.

“Mom, that's ridiculous.” Yukino's voice was much softer than her mother's.

“You never know with all that red hair,” the woman insisted cantankerously. “She's had her hooks in that boy since they were babies.”

_“_ _Mother,”_ Yukino scolded.

Erza nearly yelped in surprise when Jellal slid an arm around her from behind.

“Are y –” His eyebrows flew up when she clamped a hand over his mouth and shook her head.

“I bet it has something to do with the _garish_ pink witch hazel her mother grows in that garden of hers. She probably landed her doctor husband the same way, too.”

“Good _grief,_ ” Yukoni moaned. “You do realize that's not even what witch hazel is used for, _right?_ You sound absolutely absurd when you go on about this.”

“It's not absurd to want the best husband for my oldest daughter.”

Yukino clicked her tongue. “If you think Sorano is itching for a husband you must not know her at all or be completely blind. And what of _me?”_

“Sorano may be ambitious but it seems to me that's the Fernandes boy's type. I hear the red head is going away to college. There won't be a more perfect time to distract him. Men are easily swayed.”

“If they're so easily swayed then why would Erza bother with witchcraft? And anyway, haven't you been trying to push this for ages with not even a hint o –” Yukino mumbled.

“You hold your tongue, young lady.” The pair shuffled down the aisle and their voices grew softer. Jellal kissed Erza's hand still covering his mouth.

“Such scandalous gossip,” he said quietly.

“That woman is horrible,” Erza muttered.

“I don't know,” Jellal teased pulling Erza back against his chest. “Maybe _I'm_ the real victim here.” He pressed his nose into her hair and whispered, “Have you bewitched me, Erza? To be honest I'm not sure I mind.”

“You're shameless,” she muttered, pulling free of his grasp. Jellal followed behind with his hands in his pockets still grinning like an absolute fool. Erza paid for her books and couldn't get out of the shop fast enough.

To her dismay Yukino and her mother were rearranging their own purchases on the sidewalk. Yukino averted her eyes in embarrassment and Erza did the same. Jellal, however, rakishly met the sharp eyes of the older woman.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Agria,” he said with a patronizing, but charming, smile. “My mother looks forward to your dried lavender satchels this summer. She says they're positively _enchanting._ ”

Petulant as Erza knew it was, she couldn't help but be supremely pleased at the woman's reddening face.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Xeranthemum- eternity, immortality** _

* * *

 

The sun had long set but Erza still leaned over the table with her squares of parchment paper and perfectly trimmed flowers. The press had been a gift from her father years before but she seldom used it. She loved to read but preferred to dog-ear pages instead of using bookmarks. Her university textbooks had arrived the week before and were so pristine and immaculate in appearance that Jellal didn't think she would be able to mar the pages with folds. And he'd been right. All afternoon he'd poked through stems of xeranthemum looking for the best blooms.

“Why these again?” He asked twirling the jagged stem of a rejected purple flower between his forefinger and thumb.

“Because they represent immortality,” she said softly tightening the screws of the press. “And I like the way they look.”

“Do you really need so many bookmarks?”

“I'd rather have too many than not enough.”

Jellal watched her tuck a wayward wisp of hair behind an ear. The yellow light of the desk lamp made everything so much more _red_. She frowned down at her work and sighed.

“I wish I'd started these at the beginning of summer,” Erza mumbled.

“Three weeks is plenty,” he offered. “It's been dry lately. That'll help.”

“I suppose.”

“What else is bothering you?” Jellal watched as she quietly cleared the last of the parchment slips from the tabletop and set aside the tightly sealed press. When she finally joined him on the window seat, she sighed deeply and leaned into his side.

“I've never been away for so long. What if mother –”

“I'll check in on your mom.” Erza nodded but still canted her body toward him and hid her face in his neck. He had no better words to comfort her. When his fingers slid into her hair, her arm crept around his waist.

* * *

 

She'd been gone for three days when he found it. The perfectly arranged flora were pressed flat and the deep mauve color of the petals made him smile. Erza had tucked the bookmark between the pages of the astrology book he'd been gifted years before. Along the tall edge she'd written in a curling script,

_~Flowers shall grow, and I am in them. And that is eternity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have bastardized a quote for this chapter. In my defense it's less romantic in its entirety.
> 
> “From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them, and that is eternity.” -Edvard Munch
> 
> Mr. Munch is a Norwegian painter who is probably best known for his work, The Scream (1893).


	25. Chapter 25

_**Yarrow- cure for a broken heart** _

* * *

 

The little girl clutched a handful of white yarrow – a plant his mother dubbed an obnoxious weed – and sobbed at the water's edge. He'd seen her around town and thought for sure her dad was the one who'd given his mom all the nasty syrups in the medicine cabinet. Scarlet hair like hers wasn't easily forgotten.

“Hi,” he said sidling up next to her. The girl sniffled and wiped her tears messily on the sleeve of her dress. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she whispered. For a long while she just stood there quietly sobbing. “My fish died,” the girl said finally.

“I'm sorry,” he offered. “One of our lambs died last week. My mom says that's why we aren't to name them for a while.”

“Jack was a carnival prize. I don't know how old he was.” She sniffled again and shoved a tangle of hair out of her face. “I miss him.”

“Is this where you buried him?”

“I didn't think to bury a fish,” the girl said. “I thought maybe he'd like to go home to the ocean instead.” She looked over at him with wide eyes. “Do you think this river goes to the ocean?”

“I think it does.” He smiled, and when she smiled back his world shifted a little to the right.

The girl tossed the yarrow weeds into the water and when they disappeared downstream he took her hand without really thinking. Her fingers were sticky with plant goo.

“I'm Jellal,” he said perhaps a moment too late. His mother was always going on about personal boundaries _or something._

“I'm Erza,” she replied.

“You've got pretty hair.”

Erza blushed. “Thank you.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've gone A-Z. This is the end and thanks for reading!

_**Zinnia- I mourn your absence** _

* * *

 

When he thought of her everything was red. Not the gray but the red. He missed her every moment of every day. The whispers of his daughter and the physician hadn't gone unheard – just as the shortness of his breaths hadn't gone unnoticed. He could barely make it up the hill on his own anymore and even so it took ever so long.

Even though his hands shook and his arms ached he tended the planters himself. The bright petals of the zinnias greeted upon each visit and he smiled despite the tightness in his chest that was only partially due to his lungs.

His daughter – a woman now with babies of her own – once remarked on the oddity of the red blooms. There were other colors, yes, but the red were always the first to show their faces and never had to be replanted.

Jellal never wondered. She'd always been red. And they were his favorite.


End file.
